Outer Inner Monologuing
I said to my wife recently, "I'm glad you appreciate my outer inner monologue." Which was to say, I talk a lot. I think through things, especially the existential things out loud. It's blogging with a single-person audience. My wife provides a listening ear when I need it most, when the ideas are too big to internalize.
Minimalism is one of those things; it requires airtime, especially since it also requires her to be in agreement. I don't talk through these things to persuade her of anything, but I also talk through things with the hope that, in the end, it comes to a point. And makes said point well enough that perhaps my wife-shaped sounding board becomes an advocate.
Honestly, though, this monologuing is something I do quite often as a part of my own introspection. (Thank God my wife knew what she was getting into when she married me; these are the types of things that can drive the wrong partner crazy.) And perhaps the amount of time I spend in introspection is unique since I would consider myself an extrovert. Or perhaps the things I am introspective about are the more rare.
But in any case, the idea is about communication. Questions should be asked and communicating those outcomes is important, even if an idea is not fully formed, perhaps especially so. We need to surround ourselves with people who are willing to hear us out even when a rumination starts or ends in a completely ridiculous place. Those that listen, those that share the burden, lighten the load.
I recently have been trying to be better about this in the written form, posting even when the words aren't nearly as eloquently engineered as they could be. Even if the point is just to get something fresh out there. Or to share the question, the idea, the burden.